My pouch still works. And that’s a wonderful thing. Since I have been back to eating good food (proteins, good carbs, high fiber, veggies) instead of slider foods, my pouch is telling me, “Whoa Nelly” and puts the brakes on. That’s a good thing. A very good thing. And I’ve already taken off 3 pounds (I know, I shouldn’t weigh). Also makes me happy.

And last night I actually did some exercise – if you count PT. I did the bike. I did the total gym (although I’m really NOT sure I’m supposed to be doing this because I think it counts as squats). I did bridges (great for the ass and abs). My knee hurt like a crack ho last night, but I did it.

And I didn’t over indulge during the hurricane or subsquent two days where we were without power, had 3.5 inches of water in our basement or a tree down in our front yard. GO ME! No stress eating! YAY.

Now, I gotta keep this up!

I joined ediets. I know, I know. But I need something to hold me accountable, and cash is king.

So, now that I can put a little weight on my knee, I decided to get on the scale this morning.

Duhn duhn dhun…

Up 7 pounds.

Holy shit.

Time to get back to basics. This morning, I had a protien shake and a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast. I need my oatmeal to keep things moving. So, I had oatmeal, mixed with some frozen blueberries and about a tsp of chopped walnuts for some good fat. Lunch will be tuna salad, and dinner is some fresh croaker that our friends gave us when we were on vacation this past week.

I know, I know. 7 pounds over 8 weeks should not freak me out quite so much, but it does. I can’t exercise right now. Can’t. My knee won’t hold me as it is simply not strong enough to do a decent cardio work out. Hell, I can’t even walk right now. And I know I’ve been shoveling food in my face left and right. CARBS. CARBS ARE MADE OF EVIL. So, it’s back to good proteins, lots of fruit and veggies, and upping the water intake. No carbies. NO NO NO.

Stress and not being able to work out have taken a toll on my psyche. Plus, I was in a lot of pain today. A. Lot. Of. Pain. And I’m eating crap as a result.

I’m so scared I”m going to gain weight through this whole process. Ugh. I need to reign this stress eating in. I hate not being able to work out. And of course, I won’t be able to get a decent workout in for months. You just don’t get a good workout in when you can only work out the upper body.

I had a follow up with my ortho to go over my MRIs and the progress from my PT. Sigh.

I have severe arthritis in my right knee (well, duh). It came from favoring it for years while my left knee walked around dislocated. Plus, an additional 136 pounds on my frame didn’t help. The arthritis in my right knee is going to require surgery. I’m to continue PT until my surgery date (July 13). Then my ortho is going to do a sugery which requires a cartilage grapht. This means he’s going to open my knee up, take out my knee cap and turn it over. Then he’s going to clean it off, attach a cartilage grapht to the back, and put it back in. I admit, I kind of stopped listening when he said “Take out the knee cap” and had to get him to repeat it.

I asked if he couldn’t do the sugery he did three years ago on the left knee, but he said this sugery will last longer and stave off the knee replacements a little longer.

I’m going to spend my summer in a knee immobilizer. Four to six weeks without being able to bend my knee. Which to me, seems excrutiating. I had to deliver this news to my boss (we are trying to work out the details of my disability). I plan on taking two weeks of short term disability (at least) and then working the rest of my rehab at home. I don’t want to leave work high and dry and I don’t want to screw up my chances at a promotion this year. So sad that I’m considering that. But I won’t be able to go to work. I don’t see how I can. I won’t be able to drive, and the thought of navigating the mean streets of Baltimore through public transportation while having my leg in an immobilizer squicks me out. Getting on the train will be a bitch. And Bob will not be getting up at 6am to drive me too and from the train station. But even then, once I get downtown, I’d have to rely on the bus system…and walking to the bus station in the afternoon up one of the steepest hills in Baltimore.

I’m also worried about putting weight back on. Terrified in fact. I won’t be able to exercise except at PT.

And the fact that I know already that this is going to hurt like a mofo. When I had my left knee operated on, they did a lateral release of the knee cap which involved cutting the tendons that hold it in place. That hurts. A lot. Bending and straightening your left is painful.

So, send me some prayers. I won’t chicken out, but the thought of this surgery is mindbending for me. I guess it will prepare me for my eventual knee replacements. Which I already know I need but no doctor worth his salt will to them on someone my age. I did find out that I had bad knees when I was 18. I have degenerative cartilage disease, which would have happened whether I was overweight or not. Unfortunately, years of being obese sped up the knee problems.

So, if you are considering bariatric surgery, I say do it now. And do your knees a favor.

Alright Body. I know you are loving hanging on to this weight. I also know that as I get closer to my GW (175 per the surgeon) that you are stubborn and don’t wanna let go. I also know that it is partly Mouth and Brain’s fault because they let things slip through they shouldn’t.

So, as of yesterday, we have launched Operation Goal Weight. Time to kick it. I know we have to be careful with the exercise right now (hello stupid knees – looking at a 2nd knee surgery in the near future) but we sure as hell can control what goes into the pouch.

So, it’s back to weighing and measuring. It’s back to watching our fat grams (ahem, instead of just watching them go into the mouth). It’s time to up the water, condense the protein, and get our ass in gear to get to that finish line. I’m not looking for a sprint here, but I sure am looking for some forward movement. Time to break this stall. Time to break through. Time to move our ass and shrink.

We’re 18 months out now. Holy crap on a cracker when did that happen? 18 months. And we’re bouncing around 187 to 190 like it’s our freaking job. It’s time for a new job body. So let’s put it in motion. Let’s do what we know we’re supposed to do. Limit those carbs! Up that protein! Get rid of that extra fat servings! Stop that snacking!!!

We have vacation coming up Body. And I fully expect that you don’t fall down on the job. Yes, we’ll be unable to control about 50% of the food environment, but of the 50% we can control, let’s make sure we do it up good. No greasey potatos at Aunt Fabby’s! No sour cream and guac with that wonderful mexican food! No fried chicken! No tamales (did I just say that?). No! NO! NO!

Let’s do it. We have until November 11th. That’s right – November 11th. Let’s shake it like a polaroid picture!!!

I’m 12 pounds from my doctor’s goal weight for me, which is 175. 12 pounds. I’ve never been 12 pounds from a goal weight in my life. My BMI is down to 32.1. In 12 pounds, I’ll actually be “overweight” instead of “obese.” This makes me so happy.

The weight is creeping off so slowly now. I’m way past my honeymoon phase, and I really have to watch every single thing I put in my mouth, but my pouch is still working as it always has – no sugars can pass (dump city), I don’t handle fat or excess carbs well (oh the gas) and I’m really limited to about a cup to a cup and a half of food at each meal.

Lately I’ve really cut down on the snacking. I’ve gotten much better at grabbing for something like fruit when I am having a snack attack. I’ve increased my fluids back to the proper level, and have cut the caffeine out because it was becoming an addiction. Thanks to my surgery, I can recognize that now. I still love my coffee, but I have at least cut it back to exclusively decaf except for the weekends (a treat, and I have to finish up my k-cups).

I’ve lost 134 pounds from my highest weight – when I weighed in at Dr. McKenna’s office in April of 2009, I was 321 pounds. Today I’m 187.

I’m down 117 pounds from my surgery weight of 304 in November of 2009.

I’m wearing size large shirts and 14 or 16 slacks depending on who makes them.

It was always my dream to own a trenchcoat. A gorgeous, camel colored trenchcoat. I think they are classic and sophisticated looking. And for years, they didn’t make them in my size, and if they did, they were not flattering – it looked more like a big ass camel colored tent.

So, last fall, I decided that I was going to reward myself with one for the spring. I ordered a lovely trenchcoat, size 14, from Chadwicks. It came shortly and it was beautiful. Gorgeous. And too small last fall. But that’s ok – it was a spring coat.

And my body has changed in six months. I’ve lost body fat and inches, even if the pounds have been creeping off slowly.

Besides, it’s a Spring Coat. Meant for warmer weather. Which we have not had. Until this weekend. It is supposed to be nearly 70 degrees today before I leave work, and it was nearly 50 this morning. Now, I had tried the coat on a few times this winter, just to see….but it was always a bit tight and kind of gaping a the buttons. No pretty.

But this morning, I crossed my fingers and thought, “What the hell?” And I put my beautiful camel colored trenchcoat on.

And it fit!!!!

Size 14!!! A REGULAR size 14. Not a plus sized 14. REGULAR. From a shop that runs small!! (I can wear some 14s already…but my coat…my beautiful coveted coat…well, I knew it was going to run small because Chadwicks does). And it looks great. And I felt grown up. Now, I know that sounds funny coming from a 38 year old woman who has 8 grandkids…but I felt like a grown up.

You see, when you are fat, you feel like you are perpetually dining at the kids table. A metaphore so to speak. As if to say, I want all those pretty grown up sophisticated things, but they don’t fit, and therefore I have to settle for wearing clothes that look as if they were designed for a 70 year old woman to wear on a cruise, or items that were made by Tessie the Tent Maker. The constant wearing of clothing from the Kid’s Table.